Uncanny Infatuations
by FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: With nothing between her brain and the wastland besides scrap metal, the Vaultie recovers in Underworld for an undetermined amount of time, all the while causing quite the internal strife for one ghoul bouncer. Charon/FLW. Rated M..
1. D for Drawing

Yes, this is yet another Charon/FLW fanfiction. I have read some good ones but I have to say...I can't help but try and write another one. I figured all my good ideas are used up but this one plot had me thinking. Its more for me than anything else, but do let me know if it sounds good or not. First chapter is up for this and I don't think the story itself will be very long, no more then four chapters or so. I had wanted it to be a one-shot...but i realized thats not gonna fucking happen.

Anyways, I don't own fallout. Like it really has to be said, cause if I did there would be an option to screw the unflinching silent ghoul...

Enjoy.

* * *

She may as well have lived here for all the times she'd hunkered down, sometimes for weeks at a time, coming in from the wastes, filthy and haggard. Always ready to purchase a few drinks from Ahzrukhal. Always ready to plunk her sooty ass in the seat closest to him and stare. Stare and smile. Stare, smile and talk.

He frowned, crossing his arms and tightening them into bulging biceps. The bar was empty now, noon was a slow time for the Ninth Circle and he took time in the solace to blank out the smells and atmosphere of the bar, now thinking back to the little Vaultie that was causing such talk as of late.

Of course she had tried to talk with him the first couple of times she'd visited the bar but he'd give her credit for being a fast learner. After his initial brush off she only tried a few more times to converse with him, each time he would just glance at her and then resume his 'vigilant' post, ignoring her completely. From then on she just satisfied herself with handing him over odd looks and long gazes. He passed them off as a brilliant new way in which he was being fucked with. A little past-the-time game she had invented, he knew since he had many of his own he played.

Besides, he was just as good at ignoring his surroundings as he was popping a bullet between a breather's eyes. Right now, from what he heard the Vaultie was comatose, and had been for the past four days. Recovering down in the clinic from, what Charon could decipher, was some sort of massive head injury. It was hard to figure out exactly what was wrong with her based on the rumors that he'd been over hearing from the fellow patrons of the bar. Some said one thing, others said another…and some said she had left again, that she was just faking the injury to score some dope from Doctor Barrows. He could believe anything at this point. The Vaultie was a conundrum…one he didn't even bother to understand.

The other night he happen to eavesdrop on a long time resident ghoul who'd heard from Willow that she was indeed in critical condition, saying that the girl had dropped down a few feet from the Museum with blood cascading from her head. The ghoul, Charon remembered, was a good friend of Willow's, maybe even more, and if someone was going to have reliable information it would have been him. Apparently someone put a bullet in her skull, how she managed to make it two steps let alone all the way to the Museum was a feat in its own right.

He shifted his stance, relieving the pressure from the soles of his feet for a moment before resuming his former position. The door creaked and immediately his eyes slid over to the female ghoul who gentle shut the door behind her and made her way to the bar. She was a regular and never caused any trouble, so Charon returned to his previous thoughts.

The last time she'd come through those door was almost a month ago. Like always she ordered her drink and sat down at the table besides him. He never would admit it but watching her when she wasn't looking was another pass-the-time game he had decided was much more fun than count how many times Ahzrukhal dilutes the whiskey.

Even when she wasn't trying to get his attention she always seemed to be doing something. Either she was playing with that device on her wrist or she was reading. He couldn't deny he enjoyed being able to look over at what ever it was she was reading and be able to do so himself. In fact, he managed to learn a few things about "..lying congressional style.." and how best to avoid a 'two-by-four' to the head. Even the ridiculous adventures of Grognak the Barbarian were a shine to his normally stagnant days. That day, a month or so ago, she was reading a fat book about medicine, one he'd seen her read before. He was busy watching a few ghouls enter into a heated argument, the topic he didn't listen in on, the fact was that they were getting loud and the looks on their faces was evident of a possible brawl.

She had started talking, and in turn his eyes shifted to the side in her direction and then down to the dusty blond head of curls. At first he felt frustration at the nonsense that she was spewing, especially after being used to her staying mute for most of the time, and then the words formed a logical structure.

"….the blastema forms, creating a pattern of HoxA and HoxD genes….similar to the cells that formed the tissue during the embryonic stage…motor neutrons, muscles and blood vessels begin to grow with the introduction of these specific stem cells…" she spoke fluidly and all the while kept her nose stuffed in the book, then as she finished she made a small pondering noise.

The bickering between the two ghouls in the corner had continued, even increased slightly, but he kept his gaze on her head until sure enough she slowly turned her stare from the book to him. As if she was expecting him to be looking back at her, which he was, she smirked and licked one finger…slowly, using the wet digit to turn the page.

At first the action did nothing but confused him, but her words, and the repeat of her 'finger lick' in his mind gained meaning the more and more he dwelled on it.

Now, as he stood alone with only the now buzzed female ghoul and his employer on the other end of the bar, the recollection caused a brief electrical spike in his belly. It was the kind of feeling you got when something really arousing popped into you mind. It disgusted him as well as aroused him…though the disgust he determined was more evident then the tingling sensation in his lower belly.

He shifted again, bringing his arms down to his side, letting his fingers curl and un-curl. With a nice deep inhale he then exhaled, and with it the feeling of mild desire dissipated. It was smart of him to just ignore any lingering human emotions, not because he was a ghoul…but because he was bound to serve. What ever his employer wanted, he wanted too. He couldn't afford to have his own wants…not when they did nothing but make his existence that much more meaningless.

His torn and disfigured face became once again the cold stern façade of the ghoul soldier he was suppose to be.

The week went by with very little quarrels, normally when Quinn kept up with his on-going trade routes the citizens of Underworld had little reason to over drink themselves away.

The sound of pressurized air releasing went off in the corner in front of him to his right. A ghoul was huffing some jet; eyes rolling back to the point where all that was visible was white. The bar was common ground for ghouls to get as fucked up as all hell in peace, and that's what many did. Ahzrukhal always had supply at hand for the junkies. Charon admitted that he would have been doing the same as the ghoul in the corner if it didn't take more the six canisters for him to feel even remotely high. In the end it wasn't worth it. He was fine with what little booze Ahzrukhal allowed him to drink, which was more then some would think.

Later, around six in the evening some ghouls came in, drinking and talking amongst themselves. Charon couldn't seem them, they were on the other side of the divider wall to his right, but he could sure as hell hear everything they were saying.

_"..yeah Graves looked pissed, don't think she likes the idea of that smoothskin hangin' around….Doc' sure knows how to make that bitch steam." _

_"She's just jealous. Women, ghoul or otherwise are just slaves to their emotions…"_

_"…I get it…the smoothskin gets a lot of attention…not her fault thou'."_

_There was a small cough and a grunt or two before the first one spoke again, "Yeah, well from what Grave's was mumblin' it sounds like that smoothskins awake and causin' quite the ruckus…trying to leave or some shit…but Doc' won't have it."_

Charon leaned against the wall, keeping an eye out for Ahzrukhal who was at the moment not present behind the bar. It felt like a guilty pleasure to listen in on the three speak about the Vaultie, but he wasn't going to deny his interest in her current status anymore.

_"..tough girl to survive a .44 shot to the head, my soft melon would be cracked open like that!" He heard fingers snap and a greasy chuckle from two of the ghouls._

_"Gurllsss lucky..thats for sure."_

_"..ha!..doubt she'd think that, being stuck here for a week with hair missin' and a nice bundle of stitches on top her head…you know how them smoothskins are about their looks."_

_"…maybe that'll make her easy, haha!"_

_"Yeah! Lower those fucking standards!"_

They all laughed, even the more polite one of the group. Charon leaned back from the wall and folded his arms again, letting them cross over his abdomen. He frowned, imagining the sight of the Vaultie with half her head shaved and fresh squishy stitches curving around her scalp. For some reason the image was a bit more appealing then he thought it would be. The sight a little closer to home perhaps..

The groups banter faded out as Charon was left with his thoughts again. Ahzrukhal had found his way back behind the bar, and proceeded to clean the sticky countertops with an equally sticky rag.

He sneered at the sight but kept his grumble last thing he wanted was to get his employer's attention. In the midst of watching the air particles gleam down in the light of the bar, a faint smell lifted its way into his nostrils. It was heady and had a bitter antiseptic aroma to it. Bitter…he frowned and turned to the double doors, just as the right knob began to turn.

Before the door could open he had a good idea of who it was..but that didn't help the surprise he felt when she actually managed to pull herself past the cracked opening and into the bar. Her face was puffy, cheeks red and her eyes held dark circles under them. The fact that she was sporting a tilted red baseball cap made the whole sight a little comical. Despite what he had over heard the ghouls saying she didn't look like she had any hair missing, large amounts touched her neck and back in ratty curls.

She didn't look good…but he figured, she didn't look all that bad either. He kept his eyes on her, expecting her to look over at him like she always did but no look every came his way. He almost felt…offended? No….he wasn't even going to think of how he felt.

She didn't even come over to her usual spot after she ordered a drink, just sitting at the bar, staring into her coffee cup of liquor.

He didn't even feel his teeth begin to clench or his lips press together into a large line of discontent, nor when his eyes narrowed down. She just sat there, drinking her booze with her back to him.

After all the times she had nagged for his attention, plotted to get him to acknowledge her in the slightest, and every time she had made some little odd sultry gesture…now all she was going to do is ignore him like he had ignored her. If he had been a less intelligent man he may not have understood the game…or maybe he was hoping it was a game.

When she got up, placing her caps on the counter, he felt the muscles in his arms flex and tighten. She turned with her back to him heading for the door. He stared at her, his head turning as she got closer to the door. He felt his mouth part, words popped into his brain but he refused to let them turn into sound.

At that point it might have been better if she hadn't looked at him, if she hadn't spared him a little glance before she'd left the bar, but she did. She turned her eyes to him, where he always stood and saw the look on his face. From the coy smile that he witnessed he knew the expression on his face must have been bad…bad for him.

She must have seen his look of annoyed loneliness. She had ignored him and gotten just what she wanted out of him; proof of something other than indifference. Now she knew he was at least affected by her presence. Hell…she may have even known from that look that he even enjoyed her company…

When she left the door shut quietly behind her, even though too him it sounded loud and cocky. She'd caught him. He stood with his arms at his sides, a larger frown on his face and his grimy heart thumping in his chest. If he'd still had working skin left it would have been riddled with goosebumps…or red. All he could think of was what a bitch that Vaultie could be…

* * *

The next day she was back, back to her normal habits. This time, however she had with her a blank book. A warm beer stood tall next to the open wordless pages and a creamy snack cake teetered on a pair of biker goggles. She was leaning back in her chair and scratching at her scalp.

When she had come in that afternoon he had seen the damage, thanks to a new hair cut she gotten from Snowflake. Her scalp had been shaved in various places leaving some patches of hair in stylish places. Some fringe covered her left eye brow and a few curly pieces were left on the sides. He wouldn't say it, but it suited her in an odd way. Though with the hair cut, he and everyone else could see the patch work that had been a massive hole. He was curious as to what the Doc' decided to use in replace of the damaged skull when he cleaned her up; metal? The question, he could tell, was going to nag at him for the rest of the day.

She'd spoken a greeting to him and gave him a repeat smile of the one yesterday, which didn't make him as angry as he thought it would have. He couldn't be angry with the clothing she was wearing, the whorish garments caused him to forgo a lot of annoyances he would have normally had with her, and she looked like she knew that too.

"…goddamn fucker itches….", she cursed and grimaced as she tried to scratch at the wounds with the pads of her fingers. He watched the flesh turn red…redder then it had been before.

"Feels like Barrows put ant poison in there..or something."

He knew she didn't expect an answer from him, so he just crossed his arms and gave the top of her head one last glance before scanning the rest of the bar. For lunch time the bar was rather full. A lot of ghouls were stealing glances at the smoothskin, more curious than anything he figured. They chatted lazily; some were in their personal corners getting high.

"Charon.", a grating voice beckoned.

He immediately turned to Ahzrukhal who was surprisingly staring at the Vaultie and not him. Regardless of his employer's eye contact he stepped from his corner and trudged up to the bar, all the while feeling the girl's eyes on his back. Her gaze was always harsh.

He paused a foot from the bar counter and stared at his employer, waiting for him to speak. Ahzrukhal stared at the spot the girl was sitting for a moment longer and then looked up at him with a pissed expression. His voice was low but that didn't take away from the harshness of his tone.

"Why do you think it is?...that she hangs around this bar all the fucking time?"

No sooner had Ahzrukhal looked up at him did he then break the contact and stare at the Vaultie again. Charon didn't have to look behind him to know that the girl was probably buried in the wordless book she had with her, not even bothering to acknowledge that the bar owner was staring daggers at her.

"The same everyone else does…to drink.", he responded with as little enthusiasm as he could muster.

"..and get high." Ahzrukhal finished his answer without a glance and straightened himself up with a frown.

"I've been noticing the way she looks at you.", he reached up to scratch his chin, the noise was very unpleasant, "Perhaps she's one of those ghoul lovers that I've been hearing about..could make some money off you….if that were the case...

Charon placed his tongue between his teeth and applied pressure. Of course the sleazy prick would think of something like whoring out a male ghoul. If anyone was going to think of it, it would definitely have been him.

"I don't think that is the reason."

He tried to come off as indifferent about the situation as he could but the fact that what he said wasn't what Ahzrukhal wanted to hear made the ghoul growl.

"Then why else would she be hanging around you? I remember fuckin' a smoothskin awhile back. It's not unheard of..thou she could probably find a better one then you.."

Now he was trying to get personal. Charon looked back to a table of ghouls that were piss drunk, hoping and praying something would happen so he could walk away from the bar and Ahzrukhal. The conversation was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and the added effect that the Vaultie had on him was taking its toll.

"Ah..if she wanted you she'd come and ask me anyways..she knows you belong to me."

He waved Charon off and turned to open the cash register to count his caps; a daily ritual.

For a moment he lingered, not wanting to turn and see the Vaultie staring at him. Her gaze burned against the center of his back. The attention was something he wasn't used to…and didn't seem to be getting used to either.

Soon or later he'd have to turn around and wander back to his corner..so it might as well be sooner. He straightened up his shoulder, cracking his spine in the process and turned to sure enough see the girl looking up at him. He saw her stare at him as he found his spot back in the yellow lit corner. She held a pencil in her hand and her head craned up to him in a questioning manner. He stared down at her with passive eyes, not wanting to be the first to look away. It seemed that she wasn't done with him even when she turned her eyes away and set her bitten pencil down. He noted that the beer was half full and only a few crumbs remained of the snack cake, the biker goggles smeared with frosting.

"So…what do you think of the new due?" She'd leaned back again, craning the already fragile chair to look up at him; one hand began to twirl the hair in front of her ear innocently. Her eyes looked so big looking up at him that for a moment he thought they might pop out her skull. He considered ignoring her, as usual, but Ahzrukhal seemed to show no signs of hostility towards conversation with the girl. Out of habit he looked over to Ahzrukhal who was surprisingly looking at the both of them with an oddly amused expression.

She began to speak, normally she would, acting as if he had answered her, but this time she only got a few words in before he opened his mouth and spoke.

"It's fine." It came out quick and hoarse, it sounded rehearsed, not that he had practiced how he would speak to her if the opportunity arose. Regardless, she looked more then taken aback.

He took his eyes off Ahzrukhal, who was grinning like a rabid dog, to look down at her. Those blue eyes were wide and that mousy mouth was parted. The look of surprise wasn't terribly attractive on her he thought. Still she stared at him before her mouth closed and he heard her swallow a lump of spit down her throat.

"..what?", she spoke like someone had just scared her. He would have laughed if it wasn't annoying. A rumble came out of his throat and he turned back to the expanse of the bar not bothering to repeat himself. After staring at her for even a few moments the sight of the bar in comparison was something hard to explain. His eyelids lowered at the peeling walls and the copper tones and hues of the dimly lit bar, it almost made him want to look at her again.

He heard her shuffling and saw her look away out of his peripherals. Inside he felt a little triumphant. She seemed tongue tied; something he thought would never happen, let alone something he would cause.

After a few moments of sweet silence he noticed her plucking up her pencil, dragging it across the paper.

"..thanks.."

He tried not to smile at the soft mumble; the nervous uncertainty was dripping from her word. The edge of his mouth lifted the slightest and he again found a comfortable stance with his arms folded in front of him.

She left half an hour later, leaving behind a piece of paper. Charon had craned his neck a few times in a few different directions to see what it was she had been doing but to no avail. He was eager to look at the paper when she left and had to hold back the urge to pounce on the item at hand. Casually he picked the piece of paper from the sticky table and, with one look in his employer's direction to make sure he wasn't being watched, he put his eyes on the picture drawn before him.

His heart thudded again in that fluttering way it had been doing lately and he gulped. Why she would leave this for him couldn't be anything good….well….simple was a better word.

Scribbled and smudged before him was a crudely drawn picture of him with a smiling woman's neck in his hands…the woman he guess was suppose to be her.

His chest vibrated and that now familiar jolt of arousal beamed through his core. His mind swam, asking the main question in a hundred different ways. Why?

Without any hesitation he folded the drawing and stuffed it in his back pocket roughly, just as Ahzrukhal turned around to give him a quick glance. Charon remained emotionless on the outside as he nodded to his employer whom nodded back and began fixing a patron a drink. On the inside he was far from emotionless…

* * *

Someones a little weird...wouldn't you say?


	2. T for Tension

Here is Chapter 2, with a little kink in it. More to follow in the next Chapter...a lot more.

Enjoy.

* * *

At four in the morning the bar was closed and locked. The A.C. blared down outside the small room with a loud rattle. Charon found himself lying on one of two busted bedrolls with the drawing unfolded in one hand and the other propped behind his head as a makeshift pillow, one that was always warm. His chin lay against his chest while he dragged his eyes over every curve of the odd picture. The picture she'd drawn of the both of them…. The pencil marks and smudges by now were familiar and the more he looked the more his eyes drooped with a pleasant haze. He wasn't going to deny that the simple scrap of paper held more meaning for him then everything but his shotgun…

With the now slightly wrinkled picture in his hand and his eyes glued to it, he began to trace his thumb over some of the lines. His breathing came out uneven as he forced his eyes open a little farther, the pupils dilating as they focused on the depiction. This time he allowed himself the satisfaction of letting his façade down. Around this hour was the only time he got to be alone….not that he was every really alone, but it definitely felt more secluded then standing in that fucking corner for hours on end…with Ahzrukhal watching him like a vulture on rawhide.

He found himself staring at the drawing relentlessly, even imagining the scene as real; real enough that he could feel her neck in his grated hands. The comparison of smooth flesh against raw muscle, tendon and leather hide eliciting a hot sensation below his belt. As the vision became more vivid he could almost feel the vibration of her throat as she breathed….the sound of her groaning into his hand.

A lump of spit developed in his mouth which he swallowed it with a wince. He knew if he still had skin he'd be sweating….sweating profusely. Thankfully what skin he did have left didn't have the pores left in order to perspire…so the feeling just left him encased in a soft heat.

He told himself just a few more minutes…he was only going to allow himself a few more minutes to look over the drawing, no more and no less.

"…teasing…" He growled and thumbed the girl's face, one that was smiling with dramatically slanted eyes. "..smooth…..skin."

His drawn face on the other hand was nothing but possessive. She'd drawn him like he was and a small part of him appreciated the fact that she didn't think he could be someone but himself…even in her fucked up fantasy. A fuckup fantasy that involved her enjoying him strangling her?...he couldn't tell whether she wanted him to simply choke her or possess her. The later sounded too good to be anything but wrong.

Without having any way to tell time he still knew the few minutes he gave himself was long gone. Time whizzed by when he allowed himself a break from all the bullshit.

A grumble left his throat as he mustered himself to rip his eyes from the paper, turning them to a cluttered corner; spewing with cans, bottles, cleaning supplies and old magazine covers. He placed the drawing face down on his stomach while splaying his red bitten fingers over the material, rubbing it absentmindedly. The leather around his thighs was now tight and uncomfortable…less so then the feeling between his legs.

The hand under his scalp moved to cover his face; fingers shoving themselves into the contours of his forehead, applying pressure. He let out a strangled groan, one of nothing but displeasure and discontent. This wasn't good…

This is why he didn't allow himself anything outside of servitude…

The Vaultie was going to ruin him…..what was left of him.

* * *

Thankfully when she woke, the scream on her lips didn't make a sound. Her throat squeaked as she resurfaced from a typical wasteland nightmare; the images from her most recent terror already fragmenting and soon the fragments themselves disappearing from memory. Even if it was annoying, somehow she knew to be thankful for not remembering the gritty details.

It was dark, but not pitch black. A dome light in the corner and the humming computers created a faint unhealthy glow that surrounded the right side of the clinic. The screen beside her bed allowed a small amount of privacy from the rest of the room, as well as limiting what little light was available. Barrows was sleeping on the other end of the clinic and Graves, having her own room, was sleeping on the other side of Underworld. She could hear the gurgled snoring that indicated Barrows was dead asleep…like she should also have been at this hour. She sighed softly, feeling the warm breath on her chest and face.

Her Pip-boy read 4:32 am. Should she even bother going back to sleep? The thought of sleep made her anxious and the throbbing in her head she knew would make it difficult to fade out anyways…

As gingerly as she could she moved onto her back, trying not to stretch the skin on her scalp.

She lay there, staring up at the spider cracks in the ceiling and the mildew stains; they formed animal shapes when she squinted real hard. The fight to stay awake was left hanging on how many representational shapes she could find in the many blotches of dark brown and green.

Every now and then she would fade out and catch herself right before the brink of sleep. Staying awake for at least an hour after a nightmare normally helped her from falling back into it…so she followed the cracks around the ceiling until eventually she was left to her thoughts. The first thing she thought of was her father, a topic she normally tried to avoid. Where was he? What was he doing?…maybe he was even thinking about her.

She frowned…the idea only caused the familiar pang of worry. It was best to not think of things like that; things that nothing could be done about, especially not late at night as she laid in bed while sweat beaded on her forehead. Her thoughts webbed out into aimless things. The pain in her head made her think of stimpacks which left her mouth dry. Then she though of water, which led to beer, led to bar, Ninth Circle….and finally the bar's bouncer.

She shifted in her bed, causing it to creak softly. The new position left her legs splayed and her hands at her sides. In the dark she mused quietly.

The idea of the ghoul and what he was doing at that moment made her reminisce on a similar feeling that she experienced while living in the Vault. She would do the same thing with Butch…who she'd known was somewhere only a few minutes away and doing something she'd wished she could see.

Butch, however, was old news and the dick was always a dick, probably still rotting in that Vault, too pussy-footed to actually leave; thou she never did ask….

Again the ghoul popped into her head and she found herself smirking in the dark. He was no Butch…he was better, even without the downy chest hair or even the skin. She'd thought about leaving some filthy innuendo-ridden note below her picture, but she figured the picture was rather self-explanatory. He'd have to be clueless to not know what she'd meant by it. Then again, there was the possibility he didn't want to acknowledge it.

The side of her mouth turned down in a half frown. She knew he was at least interested in her….besides, how could he not be at least a little bit engrossed. She was cute…maybe not so much now with her nearly shaved head but still..she was a smoothskin and she was showing interest in him of all people. She wouldn't deny there was something erotic about a man, and yes he was definitely a man, that ignored anything and everything about her while still sneaking glances at her. Inner-conflict, especially in someone like Charon, was at the very least interesting…if not very exciting, for her.

Hell! She'd even caught him smelling her once; not to say that she hadn't done the same thing. At first the smell in Underworld was..for lack of a better word pungent. Yes, some would say the smell was foul, but she remembered reading that many people found the smell of mold, such as cheese, quite nice. The smell of Underworld wasn't easy to describe, not sour but close to it. After getting used to the smell she noticed that under the layer of mild decay, Charon smelt a lot like what he wore; leather, and something that she was very acquainted with at this point; radiation. Nothing about his smell was sexy or arousing…so then why did it elicited that reaction from her?

Even down in the Vault growing up she was considered weird…and that was based on what the residents knew about her. All those nights she spent thinking of the dirty things she'd do to Grognak the Barbarian. She smiled, imagining the reaction of her 'friends' if she'd said she'd rather bone a cartoon character then any of the boys in the Vault, with the exception of some hateful fooling around with Butch. The problem was that she'd always found the odd more fascinating then the normal, which may have explain her fascination with ghouls; not that she wanted to fuck every ghoul..far from it.

No..she just wanted to fuck Charon. The way she felt when that stoic ghoul looked at her…that straight mouth and wide emotionless stare.

In the cool confines of the clinic her nipples tightened under the tattered merc tank she wore. She turned her head to the side seeking out the dark form that was the doctor. The snoring that Barrows was producing was still steady…he seemed dead asleep.

A sinful idea slithered into her mind and with it she felt the tingles between her legs the heat starting to flood her senses. She could get away with it….she could.

She was hesitant of the idea..yet it did sound good…'too good'. She hadn't touched herself to the image of the ghoul yet for fear that it would change how she approached him. The last thing she wanted was to turn into a bumbling idiot, not after all the shit she'd been through. Yet the quivering down below told her mind to shut up and that's just what happened.

As soon as her finger found the tight bundle of nerves what little hesitation she did have left, immediately vanished. It felt 'too good' and with the image of the ghoul bouncer being the one with his hand down her drawers made it so 'sickly good'.

With one ear on the constant snoring and another to the clinic door she pinched her clit between two fingers and rolled herself into a mild hysteria; pretending Charon's fingers were exploring her slippery folds with relish. The feeling was so sweet and the image so real she didn't want to end it too quickly, yet the fear of someone walking in or Barrows waking up made her keep her pace.

She imagined Charon shadowing her, looking down on her with determination as he pushed his red sinewy fingers up inside her, tweaking her with his thumb. She gasped as the build up started in her belly. She ran one hand up her shirt to quickly pinch one nipple, thinking of the ghouls rough teeth on her, all the while her climax grew closer.

Her back arched and she gulped down a moan as she envisioned him telling her, in that dirty gruff voice of his, to come….to come for him; having that eager look on his face, wanting nothing more then to see her as she finished.

As that thought ran through her mind she thrust her hips into her hand and twitched into a strong lengthy orgasm, one in which she had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to muffle the noise. She couldn't help the creak the bed gave as she writhed. A little 'eep' left her in the end as she slowly rubbed herself until the pleasure became dull. The ceiling turn blotchy and purple as her vision clogged with the flood of endorphins. Everything felt clear and calm as she stilled her fingers against her abused flesh. That had probably been the quickest she'd ever climaxed…

Even though the A.C. started to blare half way through her ordeal she was still sweating. Her body felt pleasantly tired and limp. Her mind buzzed as she let one leg drape over the bed while one hand lifted to wipe the sweat from her brow. She lay there, now content and euphoric where before she had been anxious and tense.

Her eyes drooped and with a smile she let them close fully. Some more sleep would do her and her body good.

* * *

At eleven in the morning Charon was back to his dimly lit corner even though the bar was stark of customers. Despite how little sleep he got he felt oddly refreshed. He'd spent a fair amount of time thinking over the whole..'Vaultie situation'..and had come to a relatively reasonable conclusion that her head injury was more serious then the Doc' thought. She was obviously delusional if she was trying to get 'smooth with him'. Even thou he told himself 'this', Charon still had her drawing in his back pocket and even fell asleep with it crumpled up in one hand.

He hoped she didn't come in the bar today..or for the next week for that matter. Anymore teasing and he thought an aneurism may be the death of him, and he didn't want to die that way. A noble gang beating would be an eventful way to go…better then just dropping dead after some seedy comment.

Still..he did have limits, not that he knew where they were at, but nonetheless he had them and he was almost afraid the Vaultie was going to find them and push them.

Push him to point where he'd probably do something stupid…

His eyes left the filthy floor to stare ahead, where his employer stood. Sure enough the ghoul was gesturing him to get his ass over there. He heard his own boots crunch along the floor and his employer grow closer as he dragged himself forward. All of a sudden he felt very lethargic, as if all the thinking had worn him down.

Ahzrukhal leaned forward when he approached and placed one arm and elbow on the bar with his eyes on the door. "I need you to go get that smoothskin for me…"

Charon was silent, his eyes however seemed other wise since when Ahzrukhal finally looked over at him the ghoul let out a grumbling sigh. "Don't fucking look at me like! Just go get her and tell her it's an..an offer…"

He did as he was told, leaving the bar with a straight face and a turn of the eye, ignoring the yellow smile on his employer's face.

Behind him he could here the distant mumbles of the bar owner; profanities and threats.

It took no more then a minute for Charon to exit the bar, turn right, head down the stairs and keep left. He paused in front of the entrance for only a few seconds, taking in a deep uncharacteristic breath before opening the brittle door and stepping inside the clinic.

At first he didn't see her, just the good old Doc'. The ghoul looked hunched over a patient, securing a pack of….Rad-Away?

For a moment he was confused but then a soon as the confusion began it ended when he realized he must have been tending to the Vaultie. His eyes narrowed as he watched the Doc' pull a smooth tanned arm into his line of sight and rest it in his other hand. The needle slid in effortlessly and almost instantly the clean attached tube became a vibrant orange as the mixture of diluted water and Rad-Away began seeping into the girl's veins.

The 'good' old Doc' seemed to continue holding the girl's arm for longer than Charon liked. He felt his chest prickle unpleasantly as he began moving forward, his boots crunching.

* * *

Barrows set her arm straight and watched the I.V. to make sure it was flowing properly, keeping his ghoulified hands on the smoothskin's flesh. It was intentionally but the girl didn't know that, so he turned from the needle to the I.V. stand a few more times before he heard a snap behind him and a few careful thuds.

He turned his head and part of his upper body to the sound quickly; knowing that even in a 'safe' place like Underworld, anything could be lurking behind you. This time he was right to be paranoid. It was Charon, and nothing good came from him being in your vicinity.

The Doc' decided, smartly, to withdraw from the smoothskin. He may have been more a coward then a hero but he wasn't dumb. The look Charon was giving him and the smoothskin meant he obviously didn't want him around…and it didn't seem like his 'business' was with him.

So, like the rational man he claimed to be he gave one last look to the smoothskin and proceeded to make his way back to his computer, where he sat down and began logging the morning's events.

* * *

As soon as Doctor Barrows grip tightened she knew something was up. He had looked back at her with that sort of…panicky type of expression. She knew someone was in the clinic as soon as she heard the door squeak but apparently he hadn't. She, however, didn't expect the visitor to be who it was. Immediately she straightened up her shoulders and crossed her legs, trying the crush the heat away from between her legs at the reminder of what she'd done last night.

They locked eyes for what seemed like minutes but were mere seconds. He looked pissed to say the least, but that didn't change the excitement she felt seeing him. Since when did he ever leave that shit hole of a bar? He was obviously here to see her.

A smile made its way to her lips at the sight of him, he in turn switched his weight from one boot to the next as his look showed her he was uncomfortable by her expression,which only made her smile widen into a smug curve.

"When your finished…", he pause a moment, eyes dilating and shrinking as she unfolded her legs to cross them again the opposite way, "….Ahzrukhal wants to see you about…an offer."

As he spoke her smile faded. Of course he wasn't here on his own accord…Ahzrukhal obviously had sent him. She felt a little of her previous confidence wave but recovered her previous smile, leaning back into her chair. She was careful with her arm but managed to lay her head against one shoulder and arch her back ever so slightly, hoping he got the message of her body language.

"I'm almost done here…Barrows doesn't give me much."

She gestured to her arm with her shifting eyes and then stared back at Charon, "..and I'm sure if Ahzrukhal is trying to get me to help him with some devious scheme of his then he wouldn't want to disappoint me…and I couldn't help getting disappointed if he didn't allow me an escort to his bar..", she paused, smiled, and pointed with her free hand to the stitches on the right side of her head, "..especially in my current condition."

* * *

She was smooth, he'd give her that. He almost wanted to smirk but he kept a straight face, one that looked unaffected by her persuasive 'argument'. His spine tingled even after she was done speaking. All the while she'd spoken she'd accentuated every word in a rather distinguishing voice, and by distinguished he meant sultry.

Suddenly the room felt unbearably stuffy…..thick was a good word. He shifted his eyes from the Vaultie to the Doc', who's head was cocked and looking in the direction of the girl. So it wasn't just him who'd heard the tone in her voice? The Doc' looked quit shocked and thuroly disturbed. It was kind of humorous..

Charon didn't answer her but he didn't leave either. The look on her face told him she was waiting for some kind of reaction, one he was going to make her wait for…wait for a long time.

It took another ten seconds for her face to contort and that smile to thin out. He found it amusing and couldn't help the smallest twitch that the corner of his lip gave.

"It's not going to be **that** quick..", she sounded hard.

"You know..you could take this opportunity to sit down…or talk?" That last part sounded like a plea, or did he just want it to sound like one. Despite what his brain told him he did indeed sit down, but not where she had wanted. He avoided the seat besides her and chose to awkwardly sit down in the chair against the opposite end of the room, it strained under his weight. He felt strange sitting down.

He looked at her once before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He ducked his head alleviating the pressure on his back and let out a silent sigh at the loss of tension. She was right; it did feel nice to sit down.

He knew she must have been wearing an angry expression just from the frustrated noises he heard her making. It felt good fucking with her like he was, not to mention it was easy.

"Did Ahzrukhal say what the 'offer' was?" She was trying to get his attention. He could tell by her tone that she didn't give a shit about Ahzrukhal's 'offer'.

He looked up at her and he could see her hiding her eagerness at his stare. Just then he realized that this was the most he'd ever associated with her, ever spoken with her..and ever looked at her….well…with her knowing he was looking at her. He felt his mouth go dry before he even tried to speak.

"No, he did not." Even when he tried to sound pleasant his ghoulish voice couldn't help but distort his words into something rough and ultimately unpleasant; not that he should care.

She didn't seem to care that his answer wasn't what she'd wanted; she still held that coy smile on her face.

"Well..I guess I'll find out soon enough..won't I?", she turned to the I.V. at her last words, looking rather meek all of a sudden. The change in her demeanor was so dramatic that he found his expression falter. For a moment he was taken aback.

The Doc' found his way over to the Vaultie after a couple minutes and began removing the I.V. from her arm, disposing of the empty packet and injecting a small amount of Med-X near the needle hole in her arm.

He watched her face for any signs of distress at the procedure but found none, only the slight twitch of her fingers, which he caught out the corner of his eye.

With one swab of vodka, to disinfect the arm, she was dismissed by the Doc' and stood up with only the smallest shake of her knees. Quicker then he thought she began to walk over to him. A feeling of unfamiliar panic shocked him and he got to his own feet abruptly. She got closer to him, almost pinning him between her and the chair. He wanted to growl, to shove her away, but most of all he wanted her closer…she was oddly warm and he swore he could feel her breath through his leather armor.

He exhaled shakily as he peered down at her, the top of her head only coming to his shoulders. She was small but he couldn't deny the presence she had over him at that moment.

A knowing smile graced her lips and instead of it evoking anger he found himself…peaked.

He stood stupefied as her breasts came not but a centimeter from his chest, the heat flooding into him. Yes, he wouldn't deny that he savored that second before she slowly pulled back. If he was truthful with himself it was hard to not try and close the distance yet again. Instead he followed a few feet behind her as she headed across the room with a short sway. God, he felt the heat in his face and stomach flare as his eyes fell on her backside. She was going to destroy him.

* * *

So...a little cock tease Vaultie is in the works, what do you think. Is she gonna be the death of him...?


	3. M for Murder

Alright I know it's been a hell of a long time for me in-between updates. Hope this one was worth the wait, the next is gonna me some super smut...more or less. Thank you to those of you that did review and I know there are more that enjoy this story without saying so, for those peeps, if you can, do let me know that your enjoying these.

* * *

Contrary to what Charon thought, Ahzrukhal seemed to have been having a amiable conversation with the Vaultie. She wasn't scowling, cringing, nor was her body language stiff or uncomfortable. He squinted to catch sight of the side of her face more clearly. The lithe in her eyes that he could see didn't make any sense. What he saw was confusing; a smile. She was conversing and smiling at the ghoulish bartender…which didn't sit well with him…

Despite his best efforts he couldn't hear a lick of what they were talking about, though he did catch Ahzrukhal's eyes slinking over to him in mid-sentence a few times, which made him apprehensive to say the least. He couldn't help feeling as if he was the bud of their little 'talk'. He couldn't back up his inkling but none the less he felt it, and was it just him or did he notice the Vaultie trying to her hardest not look over her shoulder at him?

After a few more moments Ahzrukhal gave the girl a large yellow smile that festered as he poured her a glass of scotch. He watched her drink it down greedily with an equally smug look on her face, eyes twinkling. No…he didn't feel good about this. At all…

From the distance where he stood he observed them both say a few more words and end with a hand shack, a long hand shake…

A grumble formed in his throat and whether he managed to suppress it or not…he couldn't say. The whole scene infuriated him, especially the fact that the Vaultie was leaving without even a glance in his direction.

Not one fucking look.

This time he growled, showing his own set of off-shade teeth to the door as it slammed shut. He glared at the door fruitlessly while his arms tightened painfully across his chest in his fury. Why he felt so unnerved he couldn't say, but the feeling was there whether he could atone for it or not. The look Ahzrukhal was handing him over the bar didn't help either. He was pissed, and he knew he would be waiting in his noxious cramped corner until something happened to demand his attention elsewhere, which could be hours..

* * *

As the day progressed Charon found that his knees began to shake. Nothing had occurred between the hours of noon and evening…nothing at all. His anger had simmered by around two yet his mind couldn't stop swimming. Only a few ghouls remained in the bar and soon they'd leave. He could see those drooping eyes that meant they'd either need to be thrown out or soon enough they'd leave and pass out in their own beds. Of course he preferred throwing them out at this point. He'd make sure to toss them out extra hard, and then maybe he'd feel a little less wound up….just a little less tense.

For what felt like forever he released his arms to his sides. The blood tingled in his veins as it coursed through trying to fill up his tired muscles and nerves…..and it did so with a sting. He flexed the muscles and sighed, knowing soon he'd be sent off to the back room. Soon he could lie down in that shitty cot and prey that he didn't wake up the next morning, or that his contact decided to implode on itself…that would be nice.

* * *

She waited hour after hour, cooped up in the little corner behind two burning trash cans. The heat was incredible; sweat dripped down the side of her face and gathered in the wounds on the side of her head. The stitches still felt fresh yet the wound was healing oddly fast. Again she shook her head to clear her thoughts. The last thing she wanted was for Greta to pop through the door while she was in the middle a reverie.

A drop of sweat flooded into her left eye and she swiped at it with haste, but letting the sting keep her awake.

She stared down between her legs where her hands steadied her crouched position. Under her right hand was a ripper, one she didn't necessarily want to use on the ghoul but it would insure certain death….even if it was more gruesome then your run of the mill combat knife. Her eyes lidded, feeling only a minor wave of guilt before she reminded herself of the reward. Yeah…she could let herself fall into another series of self-inflicted guilt over what she was about to commit but she saw little point. Something in her had changed after that slug to the brain, something had disappeared, a feeling perhaps …though she knew it would have been easy to chock the blame on her shot to the head, but in the end she really wanted that contract. Her upper body shivered at the idea and she couldn't help but smile in the blazing heat. She wanted it bad.

Maybe she did suffer some brain damage…normally she would never enjoy killing an innocent person, not one as innocent as Greta, but she found very little resistance to the idea at the moment; very little…

In fact….she was looking forward to it.

This time she grinned. Teeth gleaming spit shining grin…..and as she did it the door opened. At nine thirty in the evening Greta, with her raggedy pink dress and cigarette in hand, walked through the heavy double doors and stopped at the front slab to light her smoke.

The Ripper felt slick with sweat in her hand. She wrung it, testing the weight and hoping it wouldn't slip against the rough flesh of Greta's neck. She paused watching the ghoul puff on her cigarette, unknowing of what was waiting around the corner for her. Another stream of sweat trickled down her temple and slithered down her neck into her shirt, which was already heavy with perspiration. She couldn't tell how long she'd sat there, behind those two stifling fire bins, but when Greta's ash grew two inches she knew she couldn't wait any longer.

The shock of action ripped through her as she sprang to her feet, knocking down one of the trash bins with a loud, obnoxious rattle. Fear was the first thing she felt when the ghoul snapped her attention to her; eyes wide and just as fearful as her own. 

"Fuck!"

She didn't know which of them said it but after the word finished ripping through the air her arm thrust forward, knife in hand. It was only a few feet in between the both of them, but Greta was no dummy. She dropped her cigarette butt and sprinted away from her, almost as fast the girl sprinted after her.

The wind left the girl's lungs all to quickly and her head swam with a force that she only felt when she was drunk; pleasantly drunk…..maybe this was what it felt like to kill, truly kill a person who never deserved it. Maybe she really was fucked in the head. It was as if she watched herself from above the banisters; watching herself as she closed the distance between the female ghoul, the Ripper above her shaved head, looking deranged and lustful.

The first strike was clumsy, clipping the ghoul's shoulder blade just barely. The wound was minor but the scream that echoed from the ghoul told her that the pain and shock made the action that much more horrific. The swipe allowed Greta to distance herself from her but to little avail. By the time they both passed the fallen prehistoric bones of the mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex the second strike was imminent.

Seconds later she slashed with the Rippers jagged edges down into the side of the ghoul's neck. Now that was a decent blemish.

The blood gushed like a broken water mane, falling down the female ghoul's body in large rivulets. The dark slippery liquid coated the floor, leaving a thick trail of darkness as they both stumbled and toppled their last few feet.

She felt her throat clench as the floor below her became too slick to keep herself grounded. She slipped and fell forward, taking the half empty ghoul with her. As she fell her head slammed into the now warm, wet and very hard floor. Even though she didn't hear a crack it felt like her head split open. Her vision blotched and faded for a few moments, even the sounds of the gargling ghoul seemed to ring like scratchy music. Upon gaining her bearings she was met with the image of the near still ghoul. On her hands and knees, covered in now cooling blood, she watched the life drain out of her.

This was by no means the first person she'd watched die, nor the first she'd watched while covered in their pungent blood, but this was different. She couldn't take her eyes from the figure, even though Greta's face was against the floor and she couldn't see her eyes, the whole scene left her feeling too close and aware of what was happening. The pleasure she felt before committing her blatant act of murder was no longer there, no longer did it bring her a pleasant buzz. Right now the only feeling she felt was nothing; an emptiness that could only be compared to the feeling she felt when the stars reminded her of how small and insignificant she was. This was worse than that, worse than anything...because she felt nothing. Even feeling sickly excited...or deeply discouraged...or suicidal would have been better then this void like feeling. She wanted to cry, laugh..anything.

The body before her spasmed..once..twice..and then became utterly still. The soft flicking noise that she could have only assumed was the blood pouring from the ghoul's jugular also stopped.

Suddenly she became increasingly aware of her surroundings; the open walls, the light behind her, the flicking of the trash bin flames, the drippings from the high ceiling, and the overwhelming smell of the blood she felt encased in. Everything became overly vivid, as if she'd taken to many mentats, though this feeling felt natural. Even the pain in her head became more pronounced though it wasn't as unpleasant as she would have assumed. All the while she touched her eyes to the dead ghoul...no...the dead woman. A lump of thick spit gathered in her throat and she swallowed it all with an audible gulp.

Just like the feeling of vividness hit her, suddenly the realization that anyone could walk in and see her, hovering guiltily over a corpse hit her just the same. Her fingers splayed in the now cold blood, swishing the thick gooey substance like a sand angel. With a hollow breath she pushed up on her knees and scooted closer to Greta, beginning the ritual of disposing of the body.

Again the feeling of watching her own body from above wafted over her. She watched herself lift Greta up from under her arms, holding the heavy body close to her abdomen, and dragging the woman to the bathrooms. Everything was quick, the minutes passing by like seconds. The task of hiding her in a stall was quick. The task of catching the rags on fire...of throwing the burning rags over the dead woman...however, watching the dead woman burn was slower then the rest.

Now she stood, fully aware of the fact that she was standing in front of a dirty metal bathroom stall, the flames licking at the already damaged skin of Greta's arms, legs and horrified face. She felt the warmth of the fire touch her cheeks, the heat making her ignorant of the hot tears falling from her eyes; yet she felt nothing.

The whole thing was a big fucking mess. As the fire began to eat at some of the underlining muscle on the body she itched at her side, feeling a prickling heat run up.

The whole room began to stink, burning rotten ghoul flesh was apparently a scent she hadn't familiarized herself with...until now. She took in a big whiff, filling her lungs with the noxious smell until she felt her gag reflex trigger. It was deliberate, maybe self-inducing, trying to make herself feel something even if that something was nausea. In a matter of seconds she was gripping the cement walls and hurling up a concoction of beer and scotch. Why she drank before this she couldn't say...maybe it was nerves...

Her eyes leaked and her throat burned. Finally she could feel something that reminded her of the pain she'd just inflicted. Poor Greta...she repeated it like a chant, hoping to ride on the nausea and fill herself full of the guilt she knew she should have been feeling. Agian..she was left with nothing..which...maybe she should be grateful for.

She stared at her vomit, then turning her gaze to the now skeletal figure of what was once Greta. Then..in a frightful act of calmness she turned to the side and slinked her way before the broken mirrors, twisting the faucets on, beginning another ritual; getting rid of her own evidence…

* * *

The box spring cot crackled after Charon threw himself on top of it. Only when the shaking settled did he feel the tension in his back and legs lessen. Not one damn thing occurred that would have called for his 'assistance' since the Vaultie left, not one fucking thing.

He felt stiff and agitated. The Vaultie never left his mind for more then a few moments...regardless of whether those thoughts were positive or negative. He knew the smoothskin had gotten under his 'skin'….he just couldn't remember when or that it had become such a problem. Perhaps, he figured, it had been a slow and gradual process...or maybe it had been the first time she sat down at the table besides him and started her ceaseless pestering. She had been more innocent back then...now she had a hardened air about her that both made him regretful and thankful.

In the midst of his thoughts he didn't hear the footsteps out in the bar, instead he straightened out his legs and spine with a few soft pops. Another bout of tension left him, as well as a sigh. He could deal with being at the beck and call of Ahzrukhal...but when nothing happened that allowed him to move he got stiff. It felt like he had braces all over his body...

A noise...a rattle of something metallic skittered across the floor of the bar. He ignored it...Ahzrukhal was known for pacing the bar...wondering in and out at any time of the day or night. Again he arched and stretched on the bed. His boots hung off the end and his head barely rested at the other end of the mattress. It was a small rest spot but a rest spot none the less.

He narrowed his eyes a moment before shifting them around the door, a suspicious habit. With a roll and an arch he shoved his bitten fingers into his back pocket to grab at the now wrinkled piece of paper. With a grunt and another sigh as he relaxed, he lifted the drawing to his line of sight. It was damaged...he was never good at taking care of things...but he could still see the depiction plainly. If anything the mild distortion allowed his mind to imagine the real deal.

For a moment he found himself sinking back into fantasy, but some part of him was able to restrain himself. He dropped the drawing face side down on his stomach like he normally did, looking off in the trash filled corner to clear his thoughts.

He let his eyes close, willing himself to shut down until the same boring meaningless task presented itself in the morning. It would do no good to torture himself over such dirty thoughts…

Just as he was getting closer to oblivion a loud smack rounded on his door. The shitty blotched glass quivered in it's brace inside the door as he saw a soft figure on the other end. Who ever it was..they were short, and they were not Ahzrukhal. He growled low in his throat, expecting it to be some drunk that didn't no the meaning of the word 'closed', before the door handle turned and in stumbled his tormentor.

There she stood, fresh faced, fresh dressed and fresh...smelling. He couldn't help taking a deep inhale as she stepped into the small room. Whatever it was that she smelt like he wanted to not just smell more of it but eat it too. Suddenly he felt ravenous...and that made him angry all over again. What the fuck was she doing anyways? Why wasn't he as shocked to see her as he should have been?

He saw her smile under the flop of blonde fringe. The whole scene made him think he was still asleep. His eyes blinked, still seeing her softly click the door shut behind her. He remembered naughty little girls act like she was acting in TV shows before the bombs dropped. They were always up to no good. She tiptoed just like those little girls and had the same twinkle in her eye. Finally her visage caused him to utter syllables.

"What are you doing in here…", as an afterthought he added, "…smoothskin?" He nearly growled the words..he couldn't help it. He found it easier to turn his arousal into annoyance, but she didn't seem to care...at all.

Underneath the intoxicating smell she emitted was something foul...something that reeked of death. His sharp perception caught the brown stains of dried blood under her nails and the puff around her eyes. Something fucked up just happened...and he thought he knew what it was...what she did; however, she continued to inch closer to him.

It didn't take much before she was practically leaning over him, almost ready to put one bare knee on either of his sides. Quickly his reflexes caught up with him and as she placed all her weight on that knee at his thigh he acted. His arm shot up and he fingers knotted their way around her neck, not choking, but holding her in place...holding her at arms length. That noise that left her throat was that of surprise. He wouldn't admit it out loud but she frightened him..no...she confused him, which scared him just the same.

Normally when someone's life was literally held in his hand they didn't have the look she had on her face. That whimsical look and that unwound feel to their muscles...she wasn't tense at all. Again she confused him...bothered him even. Then he realized...it was the drawing. His eyes settled down to where the face-down picture lay on his lower abdomen…..

Shit.

She smirked...as if seeing the realization in his eyes. That smirk never faltered even as he squeezed at the tender area in his mild shock. Suddenly he felt a constricting pain between his thighs, knowing full well why and how it happened. Still she look at him that way...that way that told him she had just accomplished something quite astounding...pride.

Quickly the aroused and shocked feeling of earlier gave way to those he normally felt...maybe to soon for her liking. He easily put back on his daily mask and let his mouth form a cut-like grin. He bore his eyes into her and saw that confident face falter….just a little...

She was just about to speak, that little mousy pink mouth was opening just as he thrust her backwards, freeing her neck from his grasp. She stumbled back, not falling but reaching behind her to steady against the opposite wall. He wanted to bark at her to get the fuck out but he just held her gaze, knowing full well that he'd broken her little ploy. He relished in the fact that he was able to resist her….something he didn't know he was strong enough to do. She glared heatedly back at him, a stern little frown on her face; cheeks red. Her arm's length shook behind her, those eyes now angry...

"Ahzrukhal's in the next ro-" She cut him off, her voice squeaky at first.

"Oh no… ", the look of anger left her face and was replaced with a look of pure hubris. Her words were pure sugar. "None of that any more, I hold you contract now..."

The anger that he felt previously at being interrupted faded, he paused. Had he heard her correctly...and if he did, then why did she say something like that? He sat on his cot, legs planted down on the ground, his boots still on. For a moment his eyes fell, staring at her bare feet...sneaky bitch...then he shut his eyes.

"Aren't you going to say anything..? Not one single fucking word?" She growled, snatching her hand from the wall behind her and stomping over to him, shifting through the pockets in her shredded shorts.

He heard the ruffling of paper...familiar paper. He didn't need to open his eyes to know she held his contract. But how? Finally, when he felt her body heat against his shins and knees he spoke. He sounded exhausted...which made him sound raspier than he normally did.

"Who was it...? Who did Ahzrukhal make you kill for that?" The words were slow and he felt incredibly old in that moment...so tired.

"..." He heard her breathe in deeply, as if she was loosing air. In and out he heard her breathe until the very sound was deafening.

"...Greta.."

He opened his eyes, glancing at her distraught facial expressions, followed by her small shoulders….the divots on her unbearably thin shirt that indicated the coldness in the room and then her dirty finger nails gripping the pockets of her shorts. The dried blood was hidden near the skin. He almost wanted to grin.

"Yeah...that's what I thought.", the corner of his cracked lips lifted.

* * *

You know your wanted when someone kills mercilessly for you, eh?


	4. C for Contract

This is not the last chapter...even though I did say this was only going to be four chapter...turns out its going to be five! So enjoy this one a look forward to another smut filled chapter.

This chapter contains some smut...not balls out smut but sexual scenes nonetheless. So if you don't like ghoul on girl action then high tail it outta here. If you do, welcome and enjoy!

* * *

He looked almost pleased…for a moment she wanted to dwell on his odd expression but his face changed so quickly that she was left with a new thing to think about. What was he doing? The room felt smaller than before as she watched his eyes slink to the door behind her. She followed his gaze to the latch she had secured when she'd first come in. Upon looking at the latch he looked as though he had come to some obvious realization. His eyes shimmered and that grin got a little more apparent.

She swallowed a lump in her throat down into her belly as he shimmied his gaze back to her.

"How di-", she started to question but he got to his feet so quickly that it startled her. The bed screamed with the absence of his weight and shifted closer against the peeling wall behind him. The hairs on her arms stood at an end and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Why all the time she had been next to him he never had such a dominate presence as now was beyond her grasp. Even though he just stood there, looking down at her, he still managed to make her feel oh so small, and not in a height ratio sort of way.

"..did Ahzrukhal sa-", again she was trying to prose her question but he just took a large step towards her, as if he knew it would shut her up. The movement wasn't as quick as when he stood but it was just as definite. Was he playing his own game with her? She felt that confidence after killing Greta leave her so suddenly that she was wondering how quickly she could unlock the door and flee. An image of dogmeat with his tail between his legs flashed before her, it was a good comparison to how she felt just now.

But wait…she didn't have to be afraid of him. Her hand delved into her right pocket, feeling the worn paper inside. She had nothing to fear. With that thought she stood straight, shoulders back and chin up, staring at him as he stared at her.

"How did you know?", she said it quickly and this time he didn't move. He said nothing, but his grin came back…if it could be called a grin. The sight was something she had never seen on his face before..and it forced her to really stop and take a good long look at him.

By any other person's standards he could be called horrible…and disgusting…but if she faded out her focus on him she could tell he was at one point handsome. Even with his absence of a nose…ears…pupils and soft lips, she couldn't help but find something enthralling about his features. Even the dull teeth below his torn lips was something she wouldn't mind having on her skin in the slightest. Just the thought made her shiver in her thin clothes.

She stared into his milky eyes, which never wavered. She stared at his leathery lips and the hallowed of his scarred cheeks. The fact that he was slowly getting closer to her didn't registered as she moved her eyes over to his scratchy scalp and back down to the whole of his marred facial features. She wanted to see what he felt like...all over.

* * *

She seemed frozen in place. He saw her criticize him...like every other smoothskinhe'd ever met; comparing his dead flesh to smooth skin. The closer he got, the more she gazed at him. He felt his teeth clenched and grated together as he got up close and personal with her, no more than ten inches away. Only now did she seem to realize he was as close as he was, but he didn't see shock as much as he saw need.

"Don't mistake my quietness for stupidness…", he stared down at the wide eyes of his new employer.

* * *

Down in the deepest part of her stomach she felt a sweeping sensation. The look she was currently receiving from the ghoul before her was a mixed blessing. In her dank sheets she may have envisioned this same look while thinking of more explicit things but right now, it scared her.

She couldn't even here his breathing even though she saw his chest rise. All he did was stare at her, that little lift of the corner of his thin mouth. The more time went by without any action from him was like a pipe leak slowly submerging the room. The air was heavy with something abnormal and for a moment she felt as though she may suffocate.

Until he spoke.

"You just going to stand there?"

His voice was loud against the silence before it, making her regret wanting him to speak at all. Besides...she honestly didn't know what to do. All the time she'd known just what she was going to do once she got hold of the piece of paper that currently resided in her pocket, but now...now she felt like a squirrel at the mercy of a deathclaw.

She stood mute. Almost embarrassed, with her lack of confidence.

* * *

He should have known...

The Vaultie was like all other women; paradoxical. They could tease and they could taunt, but when they got a taste of their own medicine it was like they'd just been thrown into a fire; this thought made him break out in a mirthful grin, and fuck did it feel nice. He couldn't remember the last time he actually grinned wholeheartedly.

Just from the look in the Vaultie's eyes, he could tell she was just as surprised as he was content. He saw her fingers twitch at her sides and her tongue dart out to moisten her lips. That tongue...he felt his belly tighten and his own fingers twitch.

"Most of the time my employers give me orders...or did you just want to see what the paper felt like?" Even though his words were meant to be sarcastic they never came out like he planned. No matter how long he lived with his rasping voice, never could he match his desired tone with his altered voice box. The words just sounded angry.

"Okay...okay, I'll...give you an order." Her words were firm, but he watched her eyes dart around the room sporadically before landing on his cot. He heard her gulp, the sound making his thighs tense up now. If he kept going this route he'd be just a taut string at her disposal.

He clenched his fists at his sides as he watched her face scrunch and then her mouth open slowly. The anticipation flooded him instantly, building to a crescendo in milliseconds. He knew what she wanted...or at least hoped he did.

"Sit down..." Her voice cracked as she looked down at her feet, and his boots.

He did as he was told and took a few large steps back before he felt the edge of the cot at the backs of his legs. With a gentle ease he lowered himself back down onto the broken mattress with a loud creak, never letting his gaze leave the whites of her eyes.

A vice gripped him, and it wasn't just him following his contract. The muscles in his hands clenched around his thighs as she began to creep closer and closer towards him. He felt the heat of her first. Closer she tip-toed until he could smell her warmth. So close he could taste her scent in his mouth. He tried to crane his neck back to look up at her as she closed the distance...but he was unable. Instead of seeing her face he was left gazing into outline of her breasts the shirt revealed. The sight made him exhale in a shallow quake. Fuck..

Again he heard her swallow a ball of spit down her throat, and again heard her take in a few trained breathes. He felt as though he was sweating, the heat he felt coming off of her and into him made his mind seize up, and just when he thought he was going to burst, out the corner of his eyes he saw her arm lift up and felt the slightest human touch on his temple. It was white hot and he felt his throat vibrate at the contact. God, when did he become so weak headed? When did things start effecting him like this?

He almost cringed when a puff of her breath strayed some of his thin hair over the dead skin of his scalp. All of a sudden her touch left him, leaving him near gaping at the withdrawal. His lens shifted back into focus, seeing her pert chest shrink in size as she back up from him a couple steps. He bit his tongue to keep from asking her to come back. With a shift of his eyes he could now see her face, one that was furrowed at the brow, her eyes lowered.

"...well?" He gruffed out trying to shake the desperation from his voice.

* * *

She watched his face, sure she could find some emotion behind his blotched eyes. The white orbs were looking up at her intently, but she didn't see that he actually wanted her to touch him. She knew thats all she wanted to do, to feel him...see what was under that constricting leather...yet he didn't show anything but aggression or disgust. At first she was sure that he was avoiding her for other reasons...lack of human contact, or...anything that wasn't him just plain-despising her.

"You're warm...", she shut her mouth tightly before taking a quick step towards him; he flinched, "...and..rough."

Negating any previous thought she touched him again. Her whole hand coming against the side of his jaw, feeling the different textures below. She saw his eyes lower and heard a breath leave him, a sure sign that he at least enjoyed the contact.

"For right now...you can do whatever you want." He looked up at her as soon as she finished her sentence.

"You can..leave...or..", she lifted a knee as she had earlier and set it down by his hip, letting the bed sink under the pressure, "..push me away..or..", with a push of her knee and a lift of the other she swung herself on his lap, bouncing the bed a few times before resting her lower body on his, "..you can touch me back."

He didn't speak. She sank into him, enveloping the junction of her thighs on the stiffness of his erection, something she had noticed when he'd sat down. She knew now. She knew, and to hell with what he tried to say to cover it up. With a shift of her hips she heard him groan. It was a guttural noise that was accompanied by his shaky breathe. She had him finally...and she fucking knew it.

* * *

That dull throb he'd had before tripledwhen she'd sat down on him. Now...with her thrusting those hips against him he couldn't think of anything he had previously been thinking, especially his aggrivation over the Vaultie's persistent looks. Damn him if he was going to let himself fuck up an opportunity like this. A smoothskin only seduces aghoul...well, never. Sure ghouls had fucked smoothskins but never had he heard of a human going to such lengths to pursue one before now.

That last little shred of stability was threading just as her face came closer to his, that hot breath on him and wet lips on his jagged neck was the end of it for good.

He snapped.

He didn't even feel himself breath as he grasped at her forearms, holding her where she was; against him. She made a small sound but it was mufled when he shoved his desperate mouth into her neck to maw the tender flesh there. His teeth grazed her skin and his odd tongue latched out to snake up her neck and to her ear. She tasted just as good as he'd imagined, and the small layer of sweat on her fresh skin only got better the closer her got to that area below her ear.

He nipped at her lobe and growled in her ear as he squeezed her arms in his rough hands. She didn't know what she'd gotten herself into...but she was about to find out. He was going to make damn sure of that.

"Mnn..I'm gonna tear you apart." He growled against her skin as she shivered and the goose flesh on her skin stood on end. The wonders her skin could do..

The bed screeched as he pulled her closer against his evident hardness, rubbing her against him as he bit and sucked on her neck, leaving little welts in his wake. The strangled gasps and groans emitting from the Vaultie made him growl again, growl and increase him tempo. He couldn't help but try and bring her as close to him as possible, even if he was hurting her.

"Charon..Ah!..stop!"

Immediately his chest tightened and his mouth against her collar bone halted, hovering over the red tormented skin. He stopped alright, but he didn't like it. His throat vibrated with a feral noise as she started to pry herself from his strong grip, allowing a few inches of distance between the two of them.

He managed to crack his neck up to her face, where he saw her lower lip shaking and her eyes wider than normal. Isn't this what she wanted..? He felt his anger bubbling up again.

"You...you have to be a bit more gentle than that...I need you to be a bit less...rough, just for now." His mouth formed an angry frown, even though he could understand her. Upon closer inspection he saw a pebbling wound on her neck he no doubt inflicted on her...still he didn't like the idea of being told to slow down, then again...this was his new employer and he'd have to learn to do things her way...

He grumbled but nodded. "Fine." He looked away from her small smile feeling an odd sensation ripple in his chest between his ribs. He didn't know if he liked that feeling, but that dislike left him the moment he felt her hands on his shoulders, massaging them with the lightest touch.

With a concentrated breath he reached back up to her, resting his covered hands on the upper part of her ribs. He swore he could feel her heart beat through his hands...but she quickly removed them from her. He growled again despite her previous words and was about to rip his digits from her own before he felt her start removing the leathery material. He saw that little coy smile on her face as she slowly unbuckled his gloves and slid them off one hand, and then the other. He stretched the fingers on his left hand as she touched it, running her own fingers over the hot skin that had been previously unknown to her. Just the act alone was causing him to throb.

He heard her voice, now riddled with a heavy emotion, "I want to feel them on me...not your leather...", and as if to prove her point he watched her take his hand and with an arch of her back, guide his hand up the front of her shirt to her left breast. He should have known to expect the bare flesh along with the sniff nub but the sensation was surprising. Again his throat rumbled but not with frustration. With his other hand he pulled her closer to him as he squeezed the soft globe. He heard her moan and to hell with his want for control, if this was what she was going to make him do against his previous desire then he would count himself one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

His free fingers tugged at the stiff nipple previously under his palm as he lifted the weight of it and massaged it into her chest. He heard her about to speak but when he ran his other hand up the back of her shirt she fell silent again, except for a shaky groan. He smirked, looking down her body as he maneuvered her shirt up and over her breasts, exposing her already stiff flesh to the air of the room.

"Charon..", he didn't wait for the rest, he dipped his mouth down to the untouched nipple, grazing his tongue against the dusky flesh. A quiver escaped her and the move pushed her nub right into his mouth, which he proceeded to bite and orally torture.

"Ah!..shit...", he grinned against her cushiony flesh as he sucked it in and twirled it until it look swollen. This type of roughness she didn't seem to mind so much he noted. No..she seemed to love it. He felt her fingers gather the material of his leather armor and tug roughly, moaning through tightly closed lips.

With a 'pop' he let go of her nipple and began nipping his way up her body again, now rubbing and kneading both breasts in his naked hands.

As he sucked on her skin and bit at her clavicle she began tracing her fingers over his face, his features burning as she grazed over the gaps where his ears used to be. He stopped a moment, letting his rough mouth linger on her as he sighed. The feeling of just being touched was so good, he had forgotten what it was like.

* * *

The exposed red throbbing muscles below the hole of his ear was warm...and..soft? She didn't even notice him stopping his ministrations as she brought both hands up to touch him. In her other hand she held his jaw. Most of theskin there was left and the texture was smooth but tough...where it met exposed muscle it became jagged and dimpled. She could never see getting bored of his physical appearance. He felt so..good...and...she leaned forward to rub her cheek against the top of his scalp, and he felt so fucking warm. Her breathe moved the clumps of stray hair around his scalp. He smelt like sand...like the wastes. She needed to get him back out there with her...

A bite on her skin made her twitch, snapping her out of her daze. He had been gentle for only a few moments before he became rough again...but this time she wasn't going to say anything. She asked for this...now she was going to deal with the 'consequences'.

She looked over his armor...his metal shoulder plates were gone, laying in the corner somewhere...yet his leather jacket looked vaguely complicated to get rid off. With a audible gulp she drug one of her hands to the front of his jacket..the zipper looked old and rusted but when she fingered it the teeth in the zipper separated smoothly. She felt him pull back, looking up at her. She was about to give him a reassuring look but he grasped her hips tightly and pulled her with him farther onto the bed, until his back hit the wall behind him.

Her knees hit the wall with a bang but she didn't feel the pain, what she did feel was the pleasure as she rocked back onto him. His bulge was perfectly aligned against that small nub between her thighs and fuck did it feel good, even through her shorts. She moaned, knowing he knew why and sure enough she felt his hands guide her back and forth slowly against him. The force with which he held her was what set her off. He stared at her, those milky eyes hooded as he pulled her forward and back with small precise movements against his hardness.

With a shaky hand she pulled the zipper of his leather jacket down to his stomach, quickly pushing one hand into the warm depths to feel the thin 'white' shirt beneath. Her choked moans were hard to supress each time he rubbed her sweet spot against him. She didn't have to look to know there was a smirk on his face..she knew by the way he breathed. Suddenly with another rock of her hips she felt that dull pleasure increase and she desperately ran her hand under his jacket to grab at his shoulder tightly.

"...", she couldn't help but move with his guiding hands as she gasped. The fact that their clothes were pretty much still on left her mind as she thrust against him. Hard.

He made a sound, a guttural groan that made her moan loudly. She tried to push the leather off his shoulders as he proceeded to grind against her as she moved with his hands. Never had anything felt so fucking good. Even pure sex had never felt as good as what he was doing just now, and she wasn't going to keep him in the dark.

"..oh shit, this is goood...so good." She felt his growl ring in her ears as he dug his fingers into her hips, some digits digging into bare flesh as he positioned himself forward a few degrees before bringing her back and forth on him harder, but never faster. The speed was frustrating, but so good she couldn't tell him to go faster. She couldn't believe how good, her stomach was heating up and she knew she was going to come.

"..fuck!", she hissed out a breath and leaned backwards, putting all her momentum into the movement he had created. She could barely hear him make a gruff retort, "Not now.." She wanted to snicker for him actually being humorous but suddenly she forgot what or why she was going to speak as another wave of pleasure crept through her thighs and belly. Somewhere in the back of her brain she remembered being told about this sort of sexual activity in the Vault, as a safe alternative to sex. She'd scoffed at the idea then, knowing that everyone knew it could never compare to anything actually pleasant, but screw what she thought she knew. Now she was in a dark, dank room...dry humping a ghoul and nothing she could think of since felt anything like it.

That little ball of tension started without her remembering when and before she knew it she was sobbing out a moan and shivering all over the ghoul. Her ears were ringing and she had to slump against him as he rocked her back and forth, softly. For a brief moment she forgot where she was until she felt the vibrations of the chest she was leaning on. If she didn't know any better she would have said he was laughing...

...and he was.

* * *

Ooo...What should Charon do next? Besides fill her up.. of course.


	5. R for Reward

Alright here it is, last chapter. This one is nothing, and I mean nothing, but pure smut. So once again if you don't like ghoul sex then I suggest you leave. If not then enjoy!

* * *

She was still twitching against him when he'd stopped laughing. He still felt the rumble in his throat and the float-like sensations of pre-laughter. Hell...if he'd known she was this rusty then he'd have given into her advances days ago...maybe even the first time she'd shown him interest. Bringing a woman to orgasm like he just did was something he'd never thought possible...especially with a smoothskin woman. He doubted she was a virgin...so the fact that she was still shivering against him was almost unfathomable. His chest swelled...as well as his cock. Her breath was making his chest damp...almost like the area her lower half was squished against. Again he grumbled, feeling her perk up against him. Slowly he watched her lift her eyes up to his, keeping most of her face buried in his shirt.

He felt her little fingers run up his shirt, under his jacket, finding purchase on his shoulders. Slowly she brought her face up in-line with his, no doubt seeing the grin that was forming on his face without his awareness. That laugh earlier had felt just as good as bringing her to a climax. Though, as good and arrogant as he felt now he couldn't ignore the throbbing he felt in his own pants...he'd been close, real close to finishing himself, but he couldn't have let that happen...not so soon. Plus the sight of her shivering along him was a nice sight. He didn't know if he'd get another chance to witness it.

He looked away from her slanted eyes and gazed at the top of her scalp. The sight of those stitches was less noticeable, yet it was still oddly arousing..the jagged silver scar was proving to be a nice feature added to the other tiny blemishes she had. Something about her pretty face being marred was appealing. It could have been that it made her more like him...but that was a selfish thought. He liked to think that it made her more attractive because it proved what she was. The Lone Wanderer...He'd spent many days standing in his corner, listening to her plights...her destruction.

As he lost himself in thought she was busy nipping at the dead skin on his neck. He couldn't feel things as good on his skin as he could on his bare muscles...but still, the mild sensations snapped him out of his reverie. He groaned as he felt her hands slither over the broad expanse of his shoulders, pushing the leather jacket off him and down his arms. Even though she was undressing his upper body...he just felt hotter.

"Mnn...Charon...let me do something for you...something good?"

He felt her warm breath in the crook of his shoulder, making her way to gumming the edge of his shirt. Fuck..he wished he had a window to crack. The heat filled his olfactory senses, making him feel faded. She smelt intoxicating...compared to him at least.

He grunted and shifted his shoulders abruptly, making her back up a bit as he worked his arms out of his leather armor jacket. The material wrinkled and fell around his waist. A chill hit his arms and finally he felt his mind clear enough to remember he had a half naked smoothskin on his lap. His eyes ran down her naked breasts and to her near flat stomach, the little belly button creased slightly above her shorts. He felt like a generator, the way he was grunting and growling in his chest. His bitten fingers went to the shiny button on her shorts, he rubbed it while his other large hand went to tease her right breast again. He barred his teeth when his actions ripped a moan out of her. It was so clear compared to his own gruff voice.

He stiffened however, when she began lifting up his thin shirt. She seemed to notice this too. He looked away and behind her at the wall, staring intently at the spider cracks in the plaster. He saw out the corner of his eye her staring at him, a dip on her mouth as she slowly tried to push the material over his stomach. He growled loudly and grabbed at her wrist with both his hands. She looked frightened for a moment, but then her face relaxed.

He looked away again when she opened her mouth to speak, "Relax..".

He let her wrists slip out as his grasp as he watched her lift the rest of her own shirt past her shoulders and over her head. The material fell to the floor behind her and god help him if he couldn't help but stare at her naked chest again. She had a scar above one breast that he hadn't seen before...a knife wound. He couldn't help smirking at the sight.

Her fingers tugged at his shirt again and he began to rumble a threat in his throat before she snapped at him, "That was an order...", quickly she changed her expression from stern to pleasant, "...relax..".

He still grumbled as she uncovered him from the waist up. He barely realized what happened until the air hit his naked torso. His arms landed back at his sides, not that he remembered ever lifting them. He watched her put his shirt down beside them on the bed. A little shiver went up his spine when he saw the look in her eyes. Fuck...

* * *

She gaped at him. Most of his chest was still intact...hell, she could even see some abdominal muscles under his leather-like skin. She gulped, feeling her fingers twitch against his waist. Her eyes roamed from the top of his belts to the tops of his shoulders. He had a patch on his side that was ripped of skin, red dusty muscle and veins covered that area while the rest was red-hued flesh. Here and there were small nicks of exposed muscle, especially around his biceps and pectoral muscles, but god...she loved it.

At first she was afraid she would have gotten this far and be disgusted with what she saw...but it was quite the opposite. The feel of his abrasive skin under her palm was soft...yet hard, if that could made sense. It felt a lot like the texture of rawhide...and was warm to the touch. His whole body felt like a space heater, like the one she had in her room in the Vault.

When she peeped a glance of his facial expression she noted that he didn't look very calm. Her belly tightened and after running a few fingers over some of the muscle on his side she smiled up at him. It didn't seem that her smile help, he still looked as emotionless as a stone.

"Don't look like that...you have no idea..", she flushed her naked chest against his, feeling the tough flesh tease her nipples in the most delicious way, in turn feeling his chest vibrate at the contact, "...what your body does to me.."

She took a risky move, rubbing her body up his to touch her lips to the bottom of his chin. The pleasurable sensation of his skin scratching her nipples was so good. She moaned as she nipped lightly against his jaw. Her eyes shut as she ran her mouth over his jaw line, kissing and nibbling depending on what type of exterior she came in contact with. She couldn't help the grin that came to her face when she felt his hand grab at her shoulder blades possessively. The feel of his hands raking her back and grasping at her skin covered muscles was almost to good to bare.

She moaned against his cheek and felt him immediately seek out her lips. She was shocked at first, when the feel of his thin chapped lips hit her own. He seemed to freeze against her mouth, but she knew if given another second he would yank away from her. She opened her mouth and kissed him, poking her tongue against his bottom lip. She felt him pull away. Quickly she grasped his face, pushing her mouth on his and feeling that spike of electricity run down her belly and between her legs.

His fingers dug into the back of her neck and the side of her ribs, pulling her harder against him. Noises emitted from him, some she couldn't even define as he bit her lip. She took the opportunity to attacked his mouth again, starting a wet duel with her tongue. He tasted bitter..not extremely pleasant but something she could see getting used to. Just like she got used to the taste of warm beer and stale whiskey. Despite the taste of his mouth it was even hotter then his skin and made her face flush deeply. God..could nothing else feel so fucking good? It only took a few moments until he was mouthing and sucking her lips like she was his. While she was tongue tied she could feel him dipping one hand into the back of her short, teasing the hidden flesh of her buttocks.

When she moaned he broke from her mouth and again, like earlier, started to bite and suck at her neck. This time however, she wanted him to do it rougher...crazier. Anything he could bring to the table she'd take greedily. He bit at a spot he'd bruised earlier and she nearly scream as the pain brought about a break out of goose flesh over her whole body.

"..fuck...fuck...ahhh..h..h...", she couldn't stop mewling, couldn't stop for the life of her.

She'd been with a couple men before...and she'd made sure they weren't just some wastelanders...but still...they never caused a quarter of the noises Charon was currently getting out of her. Nothing had ever actually made her stop thinking...make her forget what was going on before-hand. She thrust against him, gripping her hands over the bulging muscles of his arms, feeling them ripple under her palms. Hearing him groan against her made all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, another thing no one had ever done.

Another bite hit her shoulder, she felt his teeth run down the side of her arm and then his hot mouth on her breast. She leaned back pushing her body up to him when she heard him growl and nip at her nipple. The wet warmth of his mouth made her belly stir again and she involuntarily tightened her thighs around his hips, grinding down on him, feeling the stiffness of him twitch against her. He practically ravaged her, plucking at the tips of her breasts with his fingers and mouth in a hungry manner. She grabbed at his knees behind her, trying to steady herself as her brain slowly turned to mush.

"oo..please...please...", she didn't know what she was asking. At this point she was just blabbering nonsense.

* * *

Everywhere he went she reacted. The more she moaned, the more he groped. The more he bit and sucked her, the more she grasped and called his name. His fucking name!

She choked out a moan and he couldn't help but rub her stiff little nub between his teeth.

In his heated furry he slipped his mouth off her breast and on her ribs, down her stomach, leaning forward and hunching over until he could reach no further. He grabbed at her waist, rubbing his thumbs over the flesh making it raw.

As if he was desperate..which he may certainly have been, he tightened his grip on her middle, making her gasp. He pulled her against his chest roughly letting out a feral growl against the front of her throat. Without any other sensible thought he tossed her to the side, bouncing her on the cot and towering over her. Sure he knew she may have been surprised and soon he felt her try to lean up, but he flattened her back down while grunting in her ear. " Don't start begging now...not now."

He felt her shiver under him, something he could easily get used to...

When he knew she wouldn't give him an order or try and get up he lifted himself, gazing down her body again, drinking it in. He felt his mouth water...something he wanted to deny. Putting his weight on his forearm, beside her shoulder, he took his free hand and ran it down her stomach. He watched the muscles twitch and tighten under her skin. Again he teased the button of her shorts, tugging until it popped out of it's thatch. He felt a moment of hesitation, why? he had no fucking clue. However, even with his mind in slight disarray he saw his fingers unzip the tattered material down to the bottom of her crotch.

He knew she was watching him, waiting for him to do something. He swallowed a lump down into the pit of his stomach and quicker then he should have, started tugging the flimsy little shorts off of her hips. He felt her wiggle, helping him removed them. He felt his stomach knot up as he stared down at what he'd just uncovered. She hadn't worn anything underneath. He felt his tongue leave his mouth and absentmindedly he threw her shorts off somewhere behind him.

"Char-", he heard her voice like a fare away echo as he grabbed her thighs, and dragged her slit against his hungry mouth. Nothing else mattered but the softness he felt with his tongue. She was already wet and the taste...bitter and sweet. She bucked against his tongue when he ran over a certain spot. Again he circled his tongue around the bump getting the same reaction out of her. For a moment he had forgotten about this little nub. He growled against her while sucking the now exposed bulb into his mouth. Her thighs rubbed the side of his head as his hand left to rub against her hips and stomach.

Everything was a sensory over load. The taste in his mouth, the smell, the feel and the sound she was making filling his ear canals were all converging to make him more aggressive with each passing second. He wanted nothing more than to make her come again. He flicked his tongue down her folds and reached it into her tight passage, swirling it and twisting it in and out. He drug his hand back down her stomach and searched for her clit with his thumb, biting at her inner thighs before sticking his tongue back inside of her. He found her nub and started to rub in a circular motion. He couldn't remember if he was doing it right but her noises and twitches helped him not worry about it.

Suddenly she bucked into him, crying out and he felt her little hand push at the back of his head. He smirked against her flesh, dragging his tongue up her folds again, nipping at them before he pushed his thumb back, replacing it with the tip of his tongue. She ground against him and then he felt nails along his skin and skull.

* * *

Her eyes snapped open, staring up at the water stained walls as the tense little ball in her stomach released, sending waves of euphoria up her body and through her limbs.

"Oh shit...oh!", she pushed her arms up over her head, leaning her face against the side of her shoulder as she felt him withdraw from her. She sighed loudly, her heart racing in her ears. "..mnnn..." That was even better then the first one he'd given her. The ringing in her ears had stopped but her heart was still loud and strong even when she felt him run those scarred hands up her thighs. Every time Charon touched her it felt like he was raking her skin, making her shiver. Fuck! it was good.

"God...damn...", she shut her eyes, catching her breath.

"Gods not here.", his voice was so rough...she felt his breath on her, over her chest, her stomach...everywhere.

She snapped her eyes open. Charon was above her, staring right back with a animalistic glint in his eyes. She pushed her palms against his marred chest, pushing him back on his knees. She attacked him, dragging her mouth down his chest. She heard him hiss and felt him lean back farther. Now on her own knees she leaned forward, reaching his first belt. As she pulled back, putting her fingers where her mouth had been she felt a tickle on the back of her neck, then a sharp pressure and pain as Charon grabbed a few clumps of her hair in his fist.

"Ahh", she grit her teeth as he lifted her up to eye level with him, which was a feat since he was oh-so much taller than her. As he held her there she heard him undo the first belt. The clink was loud in the room. His eyes stared at hers heatedly, something in them made her freeze. Another clink and the second belt was undone. She heard him finish unzipping the whole of his armor and could feel the heat pool in her lower belly.

"You said I could do what I wanted..for now." His voice...fuck, she couldn't stop shivering at the sound of his voice. Why? Tonight was turning out to be a thing to remember...killing..and soon fucking...She gulped audibly as his gaze dropped down her. She felt his eyes burn every inch of her they could reach.

"Get on your stomach.", he demanded?

Her stomach twisted at the tone. Maybe she could make her own contract and he could hold it...then he could order her around all day...and all night. He let go of her hair with a yank, her head reeling back a bit. She nodded, feeling almost halved when she tore her gaze from his. She switched knees and slowly turned her back to him. The bed buckled lightly as she put her hands on the mattress before her and lowered herself to the ripped sheets. Her breasts squished under her weight and she could feel her belly doing somersaults. The breath she exhaled wafted back at her, heating up her face as her heart sped up fast. Waiting for him to do something, anything was now her present situation, and it was amazing.

* * *

He laid back on his knees, sinking the bed further below his Vaultie. He roamed his gaze over her bony shoulders, the crease of her back all the way down to the two dimples above her ass. He took in a deep breath, continuing his visual voyage down the curve of her ass, which housed a few circular scars. The backs of her thighs were tan and muscular...and they spread to accompany one of his knees, this act gave him a good view of her little slit, one that was glistening in the yellow light of the room. Fuck..he couldn't imagine being harder...His cock stood at attention through the leeway of his unzipped leathers. The air tickled him and made him throb.

"Good...", he growled.

With his exceptional vision he saw her skin pimple up. The reaction he got from her never ceased to amaze him.

Never taking his eyes from her skin he splayed both his hands on either side of her, leaning down over her, watching as the hair on her neck stood. Her hands were by her head, fingers twitching. He couldn't help but grin. He felt in control...something he could never remember feeling, ever. He loved it.

He bit at her shoulder, getting a gasp and a jerk out of her. Again he twitch, feeling the blood course through him.

"Are you going to tell me to stop?", he grunted in her ear as he took one hand from the bed and traced its roughness over the bare expand of her shoulder. He heard her whimper into the cot as he rubbed down her back and stopped above one of her buttocks. She shook her head into the sheets, making a sound that he figured was a "no".

"Good."

He removed his hand from her and proceeded to hiked down his leather pants some more, the belt buckles clinking against his thighs. His heart thudded in his chest as he imagined sinking into the flesh before him. How hot and warm he imagine it..no...how he knew it would be. Just thinking about it made him giddy. A word he could never recall using to describe himself. He felt like he was panting, dripping hot breath on her back. With one knee he nudged one of her thighs to the side, exposing her more thoroughly.

He skimmed his palm over her back side, teasing her by just barely touching the wetness between her legs. He felt her squirm and heard her whine. Even with his raging hard-on he wanted to keep teasing her...to keep dragging it out as long as possible.

Finally he sank a thick rugged finger inside of her, the hot slick tunnel squeezed his digit and tightened when he withdrew from her. Again he eased back in, slowly and tortuously finger fucking her. Her skin began to shimmer. He licked at her spine, tasting the slight perspiration that was growing on top. He gave the wet flesh a final bite before adding a second digit to her core, hearing her mewled into the sheets.

Without breaking his pace he eased down beside her, his stiff erection touching the crease of her ass. He withdrew his hand from her as soon as she started to move her body in his direction. With a growl he grabbed her at the hip with one hand, pulling her on her side with her back against him and snaking his other arm under her and against her chest. With only the strength of his arms he pressed her naked back against his naked front, trapping his cock between her buttocks and stuffing his face in the crook of her shoulder.

He heard her breath in loudly. Even if she sounded surprised he felt her lift her leg up, allowing his dick to rub right along her hot slit. He groaned against her throat, slipping his hand from her hip to her thigh, where he grabbed it roughly and heaved it back over his own hip. It would have been so easy to push right up inside of her...so easy. For a moment he kept her that way, flushed against his body, on her side, with his arm under her and that hand splayed at the center of her chest. He could feel her heart pumping under his palm, threatening to burst right out of her chest.

* * *

She felt him smirking against the skin of her neck, his teeth rubbing against the tender area. God..he'd been teasing her too long. She felt so swollen that it hurt, almost making her afraid that when he did finally thrust into her the only thing she'd feel would be pain. Her breath came out starved and raw. It was all too much, and just when she was about to speak Charon moved.

The pain of his fingers digging into her thigh intensified as he pulled her wider apart, rubbing himself along her, coating his uneven flesh with her arousal. Fuck..she felt all the bumps and divots along his length. Perhaps in this area his ghoulification was another thing to be grateful for. She hadn't seen how his cock looked...and perhaps that was a good thing. He didn't seem like he wanted her too.

She gapped, unable to make a noise as he sparked her desire into a burning pool that dripped down between her legs. She couldn't take it a second longer.

"Fuck me."

And he did.

Finally. All it took was one precise move of his hips and she felt more full then she ever had in her whole life. She had to shut her eyes, as if she didn't they would pop out of their sockets. She couldn't hear herself scream, but she felt her throat vibrate as he started to thrust in and out of her. No waiting for her to loosen up, no sweet and slow movement, just pure onslaught. Her mind faded into the background as her body became a symphony of sensation. Spikes of hot pleasure shot up her spine, waves of it flooded into her thighs and vibrations of it lingered in her arms. Every time he pushed back into her he shifted his hips in a new angle, digging deeper then he did before.

She didn't know what to do with her arms. She tried to grab at the sheets, scratch at his arms...anything. Finally she worked one arm behind her, grasping at the back of his neck tightly, hanging on for the ride. Her other found purchase against the edge of the bed, trying to steady herself against the hard blitz.

* * *

He found his teeth digging into the skin of her shoulder, it was the only way he found to keep quite. He couldn't live with himself if he let anyone else hear how good this felt. For all he knew Ahzrukhal was on the other end of the door beating off to the commotion the two of them were causing. He grunted, trying to not make his pleasure too audible...but fuck! the feel of her was intense. She was almost too tight...too hot...and too wet. With each thrust he expected her to loosen up but to no avail. If anything it felt like the vice around him was tightening which made him only fuck her harder then before.

His own skin felt searing and he almost wondered if he was burning her. The sounds she was making told him he was either causing her immense pain or immense pleasure, at this point he couldn't tell. With a slight break in his pace and managed to push the arm, under her, down from her chest to her stomach, there he found that little nub right above her folds and gave it a tweak. He got a similar yelp from her and concluded that he wasn't killing her. Yet.

He adjusted his hips once more and produced a scream from her, a full blown scream. He released her shoulder and barred his teeth in a large grin, shoving his girth against that spot she'd seemed to like so much. Either she was an easily pleased smoothskin or he was having a much more profound effect on her then he'd allow himself to realize. She was practically melting into him. Her body arched against his, trying desperately to meet his plunges. Another burst of pleasure flashed in front of his eyes and he accidently let out a guttural growl; a loud noise as he brought her thighs into his hip with another strong buck.

A rippling sensation enveloped his cock, followed by a tight vice which made his pace waver slightly. Still he pushed into her, driven by a primal need to cum. He hadn't expected her to come already, nor had he expected her to keep meeting his assault even while she was spasming and clenching around him. How her voice hadn't died on her yet was beyond him. It was almost becoming difficult to pull out of the tight channel, let alone push back in. He growled in agitation.

Without slipping out of her he managed to grasp at her upper body, lifting her up with him as he got himself into a sitting position. Her back slumped against his chest and her head lolled into his shoulder. For a moment they made eye contact, even if it was upside down. He got to witness her watery eyes and red cheeks...an extremely arousing sight.

He felt himself twitch inside her as she stabbed down further on him with the help of gravity. In this position he could feel her body relaxing more...hopefully making it easier for him to fuck her.

He gave her a small smirk before using the beds flexibility to bounce into her harshly. Her mouth opened and out came a loud moan. He ran his hands up her sides to her breasts which he grabbed firmly, using them to lift her up from his cock and bring her back down. She still wasn't facing him, but he'd figured he'd have plenty of time to frontally fuck her later. Right now was all about the moment.

She caught on quick, using those muscular thighs of hers to bob up and down on his length, greedily sucking him in and easing him out. He still used her pert breasts as an anchor, also making sure to tweak her nipples ever so often between his thumb and forefinger. He hissed at the sensation of her around him, her hands coming up to stroke his neck and face, her bottom heating his lower body...hell...everything.

He heard her gasp against his shoulder, "I'm gonna come... oh...god...again...ah!", this time she sounded exhausted...almost frightened. Just hearing the breathless words was stirring that tantalizing feeling in his lower stomach. The anticipation of that constricting sensation was also adding the build up of his own orgasm. He had to bite something. Fuck!

He found her ear lobe, not good enough. He groaned sharply in her ear, feeling the spastic clenches start. He tried to dig his teeth into her neck..nothing. He gasped, choking on his own groan as he felt himself toppling over the edge while she practically milked him with her insides. Her fingers tugged at the thin hair on his scalp and scratched at the tendons on his neck. He hoped her scream would be loud enough to drown out his own vocals.

By the time he found a good spot on the side of her shoulder to muffling himself it was too late. He felt a hot surge of pleasure shoot throughout every limb of his body, as she clumsily gyrated on his lap. White hot euphoria flooded his vision as he shot his load deep inside her. His eyes snapped open, feeling and tasting the coppery tang of blood in his mouth. All his bones felt like shifting sand, slipping out of him and onto the cot below. He bellowed out a loud groan, one he couldn't care less about.

His heart thumped behind his eyes and in his ear canals as his hands fell down her chest to rest on the tops of his Vaulties thighs. Her body sank against his, all her muscles, he guessed, most likely felt the same as his.

In an act of his last strength he gently lowered her, with him, down to the cot. He lay behind her, almost under her, while her slick skin stuck to his torn flesh. He almost found himself loosing consciousness before he felt her leave him, as well as removed her encasing heat around his now sensitive flesh.

"...Wh-..", he then felt almost stupid as she rolled over lazily to face him. He'd almost thought she was leaving...She had a droopy smile on her face, hair sticking to her forehead and drugged looking eyes. One of her long legs draped over his hips, jingling his belt buckles. The whole thing was surreal. That content look on her face made him almost feel as good as when he'd filled her full of his cum. He looked down her body, seeing the stickiness between her legs already. Something about it made him swell again...

* * *

She followed his eyes, almost embarrassed, but then she saw his slick cock. Still slightly hard and proud looking. She slithered one arm sneakily down to graze her fingers over his length. No wonder she felt so fucking full. Aside from a few exposed veins and a patch of exposed muscle near the base of him it looked quite normal. She pushed her forehead to his chest as she let it fill her palm. She could hear him grunting above her...hopefully enjoying this and not being annoyed or ashamed.

"Your the best companion...", she took in a deep breath, "...a girl could ask for.", she grinned, wrapping her hand around his length and massaging it as she peered up at him.

He looked a little bewildered...and tired. Tired was something she couldn't blame him for though. Hell...she could still feel the warm tingles inside of her where he had been not a moment ago. Again she got a small grunt out of him as she worked him delicately. Her stomach fluttered when she saw him open his mouth to speak. He'd breathed in and the first syllable was almost out before a loud clatter came from behind her. She nearly jumped against him, realizing it was coming from the door.

Charon on the other hand just tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer as he leaned over to get a better look at the source of the noise. Her heart was still hammering from the shock when a grumpy ghoulish voice traveled through the door.

"Now clean up and get the hell out of my bar!"

Ahzrukhal...she paled as the idea of him listening to the whole thing started to register in her mind. Charon must have seen the look on her face because all she heard him do was laugh. Her face turned a deep shade of red, and it only got worse when Charon finally spoke.

"I figured as much."

* * *

The END.

Make sure to leave a review if you got the time. Hope you liked it. Adios!


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